


Blessed

by In_Much_Stress



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Dark, Dark Romance, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious consent elements, Eldritch, Eldritch god - Freeform, Eye Horror, Gore, Horror, I Don't Even Know, M/M, No Beta We Die Like Endermen, No Lube, Painful Sex, Punishment, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Romance, Tentacle Dick, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Voyeurism, What Was I Thinking?, Worship, Yes surprisingly this is a romance, not a yes but also not a no, screeching our lungs out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27648629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Much_Stress/pseuds/In_Much_Stress
Summary: Technoblade is no God, but he was chosen by one.KEEP IN MIND that this was made for us, shippers, and us only and you should not show this to either CC unless given clear and enthusiastic consent. Also, if you're gonna waste your time telling me to stop, I want you to think for a second and go find something to do with your life, because you ain't righteous and you sure ain't protecting anyone, Anti.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 755





	1. John 2:16

The people who gave Technoblade the title of God don't know what a God truly is.

Lucky them.

Though he blames them not, as he also hadn’t known, before he saw the glowing eyes of the Overseer.

The moment he steps in the territory known as the Dream SMP, called there by his friends during a time of war of their own creation, he is hit with the crushing feeling of being watched. Watched, observed, analyzed. Technoblade is used to having eyes on him, as a duel prodigy and a known powerhouse, not attracting attention would be very weird. But the eyes watching him this time are not filled with jealousy or amazement. No, they're annoyingly neutral, like a child who has seen all the tricks a magician has and is wondering what else said magician can do.

He asks others about it.

Tommy shrugs, carefree like he didn’t start the whole thing. Tubbo just  _ stares,  _ quiet, still and unnervingly calculating—always the wholesome ones. Wilbur dismisses it as the usual paranoia. Badboyhalo gives him a forced smile while Skeppy asks if he has been sleeping lately—it’s obvious who has been keeping them alive. Fundy shifts uncomfortably, ears twitching nervously. SapNap and George give him almost identical knowing looks—of all times for them to be in perfect synchrony. The rest of the others act much like Wilbur, Tommy or Skeppy, blissfully unaware of whatever skulks around the land.

Jschlatt has the most interesting reaction: his eyes blazing with wrath while his face cracks into an unnervingly wide smile.

_ “He's watching our show.” _

It's all the ram says before leaving, probably to scheme some more since the Festival is on the horizon and that man just  _ has _ to be ready for everything.

It takes Technoblade a little while until he finally notices something: Dream is nowhere to be seen most of the time. Sure, he’s been around, but in the shadows, like a lurking predator… No, not like a predator, for a predator  _ hunts _ and the mysterious man just… he’s just  _ there. _ Just watching. After that, it takes no time for the pinkette to understand just who Jschlatt has been talking about.

He starts noticing Dream more, or, well, starts looking out for Dream more. First out of curiosity, then as a challenge to pass time. He gets really good at playing “spot the Dream”, having an easier time finding the other even when his hoodie blends with the trees or even when the shadows hide him like a blanket. If the man is going to be creepy and stare at him every chance he gets, then the least the pig can do is return the favor.

One day, when he’s walking around the trees to memorize the territory, he sees the mask. It stares directly at him from a branch fairly distant from him with its beady eyes and painted smile. For a second, he mourns about being caught in his little game, even daring to pout childishly at the man for taking away his fun. But then the mask tilts to the side, and the thought that he’s not actually good at finding Dream finally crosses his mind. He had been allowed to find Dream each and every time, and now his reaction will decide how their little game will go.

Technoblade straightens his back and smirks confidently, despite the chill going down his spine. Mockingly, he bows, just enough to be taunting without risking his crown falling. When he looks up, the man is nowhere in sight, but the feeling of his eyes still lingers, making him feel like something is crawling under his skin.

The first time they meet face to face is an almost religious experience, the mysterious owner of the land watching him from above, the sun behind him like a halo.

It’s silly, really, to see Dream on top of that mountain and imagine him as something more than man. He is just that, a man, with a bright and horrendously tacky hoodie and a mask. An axe is attached to his back, his preferred weapon, and Technoblade can’t help but tense a little as the blade glints under the sun. He remembers their duel, he remembers what those nimble hands can do with such a weapon, he remembers the feeling of its blade against his skin. He remembers the piercing green eyes looking at him from the other side of the axe’s handle and how they stole his breath away.

But he is no believer.

Dream is but a man.

So Techno swallows the lump in his throat and climbs until he’s face-to-mask with the other. The pig is happy for the cape as it hides his trembling fists. He doesn’t know why he is trembling, but he refuses to let the other see it.

“I have something for you.”

“Is it clout?”

The pinkette can’t see, but he knows the other man is smiling at him behind the smooth porcelain. The items offered to him are heavy in his hands, and shockwaves, weak but still  _ there, _ run through his skin when Dream’s gloveless fingers brush against his. His breath hitches and the bastard chuckles.

“Spot the Dream” restarts shortly after, the feeling of being observed embracing him like a warm blanket. This time, however, the game is almost constant. There is not a moment of rest, Techno swears he can feel eyes on him even when he's only conscious in the land of dreams. He doesn’t want to accept it, but he starts enjoying the attention, like a dog trying to get his owner’s approval. He starts putting a little more effort into everything he does, knowing Dream is seeing him. Knowing he has someone to show off to.

He will deny to the end of time, of course, but he is also but a man, despite the many claims of his fans and foes.

* * *

Techno is in the middle of the woods when they meet again.

It’s dark, and he probably should have returned to his base already, but he figured a few more hours trying to memorize the land wouldn’t hurt.

It’s quiet, suspiciously so. At this hour, mobs should be wandering around, skeletons rattling, zombies grunting, spiders hissing, and yet there is nothing both him and the trees. There is no wind to whisper in his ears, no rustle of leaves. Not even the vermin inside the tree barks can be heard.

There is only Techno, his pounding heart, his heavy breathing, his growing terror.

He knows he’s not alone. He can feel the eyes looking at him. But he can’t tell where they are, he can’t see the white mask smiling from in between the plants, he can’t hear the other heartbeat that is supposed to be nearby.

The moon is round and big above him, illuminating just enough for him to see his surroundings, but there is nothing to see.

Techno readies his sword, just in case. 

And promptly lets go of it when something grabs him.

“What…?” He grunts to himself, trying to move his legs to no avail, as if the grass is holding him in place.

No, not the grass, the shadows of the grass.

He crouches to take a better look, the moonlight just bright enough for him to barely distinguish between his leather boots and the shadow tendrils holding his feet in place. Before he can think much about it, though, the tendrils shoot up, curling around the rest of his lower body and making him fall on his knees. It’s not a comfortable position, but the tendrils—he is  _ not _ calling them  _ tentacles,  _ no thanks—are stronger than they look, holding him in place when he tries to get up. Techno tries to reach for his sword only to find it gone.

The tendrils, as if triggered by his realization, start squirming against him, making their way up. He tries to grab them with his bare hands, but much like his legs, the darkens just takes hold of them without problem, no matter how much he tries to shake them off. When they reach his neck, he realizes that the tentacles are also sharper than he expected, they tease slitting his throat and actually give him small cuts, so small they barely sting.

His body trembles with the effort to free himself, but it’s not enough, not even the magic he’s been mastering lately is enough. The tendrils keep him in place, through the fabric of his shirt and pants he can feel them pulse with power. They seem to be waiting for something. Or someone.

“You look good like this.” Dream’s voice snaps Technoblade out of his thoughts, and he is met with glowing green eyes right in front of him.

“Hello.” Techno deadpans, ignoring his racing heart as the man in front of him crouches so they’re face to face. “Any idea how to stop these from doing dastardly deeds with poor, defenseless me?”

He means for it to go as a joke, but the searing look he gets from the other makes him rethink his words. For the first time in his life, Technoblade truly  _ is _ defenseless. He can’t move, he has no weapons, no magic, nothing. He doesn’t even have the social skills to talk it out, not with someone like the owner of the land.

Next time his body trembles is not out of effort, but as a response to the hungry look in the blonde’s eyes and the sharp smile slowly forming on his face.

“How about  _ I _ do those dastardly deeds instead?”

“... what?”

Cold fingers grab his chin almost painfully, the blonde bringing their faces together just enough for their lips to brush and his next words to fan against Techno’s mouth.

“You’re so interesting… others have run and ignored me, but you play games you don’t even know the rules of… let me thank you for entertaining me after years of boredom.”

“This is one odd way to say thanks.” Dream only chuckles, tongue peaking out of his mouth to lick Techno’s briefly. “If I say no?”

“You’re allowed to… you won’t be the first…”

Something is happening, something Technoblade can’t really explain, but he can feel something akin to electricity going through his body and making his mind too hazy to think straight, much less to come with an answer.

Dream answers for him, bringing their lips together in a bruising kiss. He doesn’t wait for a reaction, invading Techno’s mouth with his tongue in a messy dance of spit and teeth. It’s only when his tongue loses the feel of a human tongue, getting smoother and long like a snake, that the pig finally gathers enough wit to do something other than stare at glowing green eyes and allowing himself to be used like that. He bites down the slithery muscle with enough strength to draw blood, mentally cheering when he feels his teeth sink in flesh.

But Dream’s tongue is still wriggling inside his mouth, and he can feel it slither even further down his throat, coated by spit and blood. Dream’s blood tastes like ashes and sugar, like destruction and sin, and he moans at the taste, low and ashamed.

Techno chokes on it when a hand cups his crotch. He’s not sure when he got hard, but it’s embarrassing how responsive he is to the caresses, whining and moaning as much as his obstructed throat lets him. His entire body shakes, wave upon wave of pleasure and dread washing over him. Techno has felt the want for  _ ruin _ before, but never for himself. However, right now, all he wants is for the blonde to destroy him and build him again however he pleases. That desire settles deep within his core, prompting him to finally give him and kiss back to the best of his abilities.

He’s rewarded with his cock getting freed, whimpering when the cold air of the night hits his burning skin. The kiss finally ends, and he gulps down air desperately, a hard feast when a cold hand pumps his dick leisurely. He flinches when fingers grab his teeth, wincing in pain when they tug on it painfully.

“Part of me really wants to just pull this off… stop you from ever biting me again… I could, y’know? With my bare hands and only one pull,” Dream whispers against Techno’s forehead, touch surprisingly tender, “But that would take away the fun of it.”

Technoblade can’t do much but make more embarrassing noises, unable to lock them behind closed lips thanks to Dream’s fingers. They force his jaw down, opening his mouth as much as possible, and press down on his tongue. The blonde’s flesh tastes like delirium.

“Such a pretty mouth too, it’d be a shame not to give it more uses.”

Dream slowly gets up, glowing green eyes still locked with Techno’s and fingers still against the pinkett's tongue, taking away the hand on Techno’s dick so his tendrils can take over instead, squirming and pulsating against the sensitive skin.

It’s obvious what he’s going to do when he grabs a fistful of pink hair.

Technoblade wants it  _ so badly _ he squirms in anticipation, keeping his mouth open even when Dream takes out his fingers.

In no time, Techno’s mouth is filled with what certainly is not a human dick, but, hey, he’s not complaining. No, far from it, he sucks it greedly, twirling his tongue and being so loud he’s sure it weren’t for whatever magic bullcrap the other is doing, someone would have heard him. Everything is loud, his whimpering and moaning, the filthy noises of the tentacle moving, the sinful growls and grunts he is rewarded with for his good job that just make him get harder and needier.

Trails of drool run down his chin and chest. The tendrils around his body move incessantly, finding all his sweet spots while the ones around his dick work him to an orgasm. The tentacle in his mouth, tasting like something beyond his understanding, barely allows him to breath, but he manages, too worried about giving the blonde a good time to care much about suffocating to Death. It’d be a great way to go, honestly.

Soon enough he hears Dream growl his name in praise, and he is filled with the blonde’s come. If he thought the dick tasted good, then what comes out of it tastes like pure heaven, making him tremendously dizzy like a potent drug. It sends him over the edge, and he comes with a scream. Dream pulls out quickly, letting the scream echo around the empty woods like a desperate call, and maybe if he weren’t so busy rolling his eyes to the back of his head and then promptly passing out in the best orgasm he ever had, Techno would have missed having the blonde inside him.

He comes back to his senses minutes later, the moon the only witness. His cape covers him like a sheet, and a green hoodie protects his head from the grass. He had been cleaned and his clothes had been straightened, his sword shines nearby. No mobs dare approach him as he gets up, grabs his weapon and leaves in shaky legs.

Some part of him, a small part of him, still finds it shameful how quickly he gave in.

He can’t find it in himself to regret it.

The taste of heaven lingers.

* * *

His mind keeps going back to that night. He tries not to think about it, he tries to banish the thought to the confines of his mind, but the moment he takes a break from his preparations for the Festival, his mind is flooded with memories of what happened and daydreams of what he wishes could happen.

Doesn’t help that no matter where he is, Technoblade can feel the eyes on him.

If he pays enough attention, he sometimes is able to see the dark tendrils nearby. Always nearby, as if they want to remind him of that night every waking minute.

At least with the Festival out of the way, Techno can relax in his bed for a little bit before either Wilbur, Tommy or Jschlatt starts something. Or that was the plan, but his body doesn’t seem to get the memo, jerking him awake after an odd dream he can’t remember, his dick already half hard and his breath laboured. He feels want, he feels need, there is a dizzying desire running under his skin, similar to what he felt that night.

Techno sits up when he finally gets his breath under control, blinking his eyes to get used to the usual penumbra of his room, only to be met with walls covered in shadow tendrils. Mouth agape, he watches as one of the tendrils gets a white line out of nowhere, like a cut or a drawn line, and it opens like eyelids.

They are eyelids.

There is an eye staring at him, green as all hell.

“Dream?” Techno whispers, the eye blinking in response. “Your tentacles have eyes… and I’m not surprised, somehow. I guess it makes sense, it explains why I always feel like someone is watching even when I can’t see you.”

Another eye opens on the tendril above the first one. Two eyes in the one under it. Soon enough, he’s surrounded by green eyes that watch him like he is some sort of spectacle. Didn’t Dream say that he was interesting, the most interesting out of the other people in this territory? He’s not sure how to feel about being someone’s entertainment, but he won’t deny the rush of pleasure with the implication that he’s the only one Dream watches so intently.

“You want a show, huh? Wasn’t yesterday’s Festival entertaining enough?”

The eyes only blink, once all together and then once all at different times.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this.”

Throwing the covers aside, Techno does a quick job of getting his pants off and opening his legs as much as he can, showing off to his audience. His cheeks burn in shame, but he doesn’t have the mind to worry about them when his hard, warm and calloused, starts stroking his cock. He plays with himself, imagining instead the feel of cold fingers and tendrils of darkness. He doesn’t bother hiding his noises, throwing his head back with closed eyes, and if he moans a little louder than usual for the sake of the one watching, well, it’s his secret to keep.

“Wish you were here… I can’t stop thinking… about that night… and what else you could do to me…”

“Oh, I could do so much, love.”

Techno startles with a yelp, snapping his eyes open just as tendrils curl around him. His arms being held up and his legs held open, completely naked since he doesn’t sleep with shirts, Techno is absolutely vulnerable in front of the blonde man—man? He can’t be a man, no man has glowing eyes, no man has tendrils and no man has a long ass tongue that wraps around his cock and makes him whine. It takes Dream no time to work the pinkett up and soon he’s coming in the blonde’s mouth.

His body is still trembling when the blonde straddles his waist, making him notice how he isn’t the only one nakes in the room. Dream’s dick looks much like his tongue, but thicker, the smell is mouthwatering and so is the knowledge that it fucked his mouth so thoroughly that night. Part of him wants a repeat, but it’s clear Dream has other plans when runs his hands and tongue on Techno’s chest. The kiss they share is as dizzying as before, with the added pleasure of being mutual since the beginning.

Once Techno is hard again—and later he’ll guess that the blonde… angel or something has some sort of aphrodisiac in his saliva—, Dream promptly sinks down on his erection, making the pinkett choke on a moan at the sudden warmth around him. Differently from his skin, Dream’s insides are  _ searing hot,  _ almost too much to handle. He can feel it pulsing and squeezing all at once, and the friction that follows when Dream starts moving makes him see stars.

Techno is helpless, he cannot do anything but moan and let himself be consumed by the moment. Everything is Dream, everything he can smell, everything he can see, everything he can taste,  _ everything.  _ There is not a world anymore, only the two of them surrounded by shadows and lust. The blonde marks him with both nails and teeth, and Techno can feel some of the tendrils dig a little in his flesh, just enough to send small waves of pain though his spine that soon turn into pleasure.

Dream is loud too, not bothering to stop his yelps when Techno hits just the spot, praises falling from his lips like apples from a tree of sin, and Techno answers by saying the blonde's name like a prayer, begging for more.

Dream looks ethereal, hair around his head like a halo and freckles looking like sun-kissed speckles, green eyes glowing in his ecstasy.

Techno wants to touch him.

He trashes against the tentacles holding his wrists, moaning when they cut his skin like butter but still stubbornly trying to break free.

“Please!” He chokes out, “Let me touch you!”

Immediately the tendrils holding his arms slither away, and his hands waste no time in grabbing the blonde’s thighs and squeezing. He sinks his nails in the soft flesh, knowing his grip is going to leave bruises. He’ll be the first one to see if angels can bruise, the first man to have such a privilege. Whoever denied this blessing certainly had not known better.

Their climax is too much for any human to handle and Techno is certain he’ll pass out like last time, but a terrible pain explodes in his chest. Looking down, orgasm still crashing on him, Techno watches as Dream’s fingers pierce through his chest, right where his heart is. He can feel them go through his muscles and his nerves and his arteries and even his bones until they touch his racing heart. His blood is warm.

He screams as the pain consumes him.

His throat hurt, but he can’t stop screaming. The pain is unbearable, making his entire body convulse violently. Blood leaves his mouth and coats his chin much like how it coats his chest as Dream plunges his nimble fingers in his heart.

Last thing he sees is apologetic green eyes glowing with power.

* * *

When Techno finally wakes up, it's in a silent room covered in penumbra. His hand shoots to his chest, slapping it almost, but he feels nothing. There is no sign of the injury from hours ago. The clock on the wall shows that it’s day already. He sighs as he sits up. There is no signal of the blonde anywhere, not even tendrils dance in his peripheral view.

Had it all been a dream?

Had Techno been so desperate for that to happen that he dreamed it up?

Technoblade finally looks at his chest, breath hitching at what he sees. He quickly grabs the sword near his bed, using the blade as a mirror so he could see it better. On his chest, like it was drawn in golden ink, right where his heart beats quickly, is a mark he has never seen before. Five circles resembling eyes with slitted pupils, much like Eyes of Ender, connected by a bigger circle.

The sword falls from his hand, a tendril with an eye taking its place. He gently caresses it with his thumb, chuckling to himself.

“Oh.”

Familiar arms hug him from behind.

“I’ve been blessed.”


	2. Deuteronomy 11:13

The blessing of a god feels different from everything Technoblade has ever felt. His body feels lighter but stronger, his eyes can see far beyond, his ears can hear far too much. Now he is aware of the scent things have, people and other living beings. He’s more agile, faster and more powerful. If before he was a nightmare to fight, now he must be an omen of certain death.

Truly, Techno sometimes dares to think he is a chosen messiah. His ego is going through the roof and reaching the High Heavens. And knowing his luck, there probably are no gods up there to knock it down. Dream seems to enjoy Techno’s growing egocentrism, encouraging it by pointing out how good Techno, and only Techno, is to him and how the pinkette is the only one who stays by him, the only one Dream wants to keep.

The mark on his chest warms up every time Dream is close, but doesn’t seem to react to the tentacles of darkness that follows him everywhere. Leave it to Dream to make something like that. The simple view of the mark does wonders to his mental state, though, because he has faith, and he knows his god will always come when he needs him. It’s a novelty, that absolute trust in someone other than himself, and some part of him knows he should feel restless with how easily his walls succumbed, but it’s so inconsequential it doesn’t even have a voice.

He’s given himself to Dream wholly.

So when Dream enters his dreams and asks him for some small favors, Techno accepts with no hesitation. Dream usually lets Techno do whatever he wants, popping in from time to time to play, talk and/or reward the pinkette if he manages to be particularly interesting in the days only darkness is there to keep an eye on things. The blonde is a surprisingly good company when he isn’t urging Techno to yield to him—not that the pinkette is complaining. Techno is proud to say he is quite close to his lord.

Of course, as much as he is  _ Dream’s,  _ he isn’t just yielding like a weak leaf to a strong wind. It’s a fun new game he plays where he tries to guess what Dream wants from him. For as talkative as he is, the blonde actually doesn’t say much, keeping the veil of mystery as a second skin. When he isn’t immediately taking charge, he will just stare at Techno, expectantly, waiting to see what Techno will do. Sometimes the god wants the pinkette to put up a fight and challenge him, make things searing hot and ten times as wicked, sometimes he wants their time together to be tender and lasting, sometimes he wants Techno to  _ submit. _

Like today. Techno slowly takes off his clothes, the cloak falling on the floor of his room with a soft noise, his shoes hit the wall near his door when he’s finally free of them, his shirt soon follows the cloak. Opening his pants is a bit difficult, he is so turned on that the lightest of touches makes him tremble, a shiver going up his back and down his legs. Once they’re out, he can see the tentacles of darkness curled around his legs, disappearing under his underwear, touching him enough to make him excited but stilling when he gets closer to a climax. He whines when the fabric of his underwear rubs on his hard member.

Completely naked, he steps out of the circle of clothes, shoving them to a corner with his foot. Slowly, he kneels, making sure to leave his knees open and his back arched, arms extended behind him so he’d expose all of himself. He can feel his face burning as the shadows in his room wriggle and move, eyes opening all around him to watch his show.

Today, Dream wants him to submit.

Today, Techno is to be punished.

Out of three assignments the blonde had given him, he had failed the last one. The rewards for the first two had already been received, the enchanted diamond sword and the memories of doing that in the open, where others could hear the bliss in their screams, enough proof of that. So today is the day for his punishment. Maybe he shouldn’t be as excited as he is, but his cock twitches at the scenarios running in his mind. As much as he doesn’t like admitting it, Techno adores when Dream  _ ruins _ him.

So deep in his desires he is, he doesn’t notice he isn’t alone anymore until a hand grabs his hair roughly and pulls, making him wince. It hurts, but Techno feels relaxed. Dream is with him.

“You disappoint me, pet… I’m so hurt…” Dream murmurs against Techno’s neck, making the pinkette shiver at the feel of a hard body against him. Dream’s other hand holds his arms against his lower back, grip almost bruising. “What should I do to you? Should I make you hurt too? Or maybe I should just leave you like this until the sun goes down?”

That makes Technoblade answer. It’s still bright out and it’ll take several hours for the sun to go down. He’d be hard and wanting for ages. So he takes a shaky breath and shakes his head vigorously, pleading Dream to not do that. Anything but that. He can barely deal with the few minutes he has been there, he hardly can take some hours of the same torment.

“Maybe I should mark another person and let you watch. Wouldn’t you hate that? Seeing me please someone else? Maybe Wilbur, who’s none the wiser of my truth, or maybe I should just give Jschlatt what he’s been wanting since he found out.”

“Please, no, please, I’m sorry, my lord—”

“Your lord?” Techno’s mouth shuts with a click as Dream coos, shoving him down on the hard floor. He lets go of Techno’s wrists, both hands caressing the pinkette’s waist like sunlight before a storm, and even though his arms are now free, Technoblade does not dare even raise his upper body. “Have you been praying to me, Technoblade? Technoblade the Blood God?”

“... I am no god…”

“No, you’re my faithful Techno, my favorite out of all of them. My chosen one, to play with, to reward, to possess and to  _ punish.” _

Techno has no time to say anything before Dream's cock enters him in one go. He's unprepared and the intrusion burns, ripping out a scream out of him as he arches his back and tries to move away, but Dream holds his hips with a bruising grip and Techno can't do much but cry, tears of pain and pleasure falling on the floor.

The pacing is maddeningly slow, however, and he isn't sure if what hurts more is the dry friction or the need to have Dream go faster. But Dream, Dream is the one in charge, Dream is the one who can decide what happens, and Dream finds satisfaction in torturing Techno, a sweet torture they both enjoy and the pinkette preens when the blonde praises him for taking his punishment so well.

His own thoughts kick in, inebriating him with the twisted pride he’s been cultivating for months now. Only  _ he  _ can please his dear God like this, only he can offer Dream what he wants, only he can take the punishment Dream offers. Only he is good enough to worship the blonde and that notion works like poison to him, making his mind so muddled it barely registers the pain anymore as he comes the first time.

His mistake, really, but Dream is merciful, and reminds him of his place soon enough.

Another scream leaves his mouth as the member writhing inside him grows, as if trying to rip him in half. He can feel it pushing against his insides. At the same time, tentacles of darkness curl around his skin, encasing him in a bruising embrace much like the hands holding his hips. They will leave marks, they could break his body in a mangled heap of blood and flesh if they wanted, he knows they can, he can already feel some cutting his skin.

And he takes it, he takes it all, coming again.

* * *

Techno isn’t sure how many times they did it, nor when it stopped being punishment and became a reward, but he can’t and won’t think about it now. Not when Dream, his god, his lord, the one who holds his soul, smiles down at him with a smile that can only be described as soft, gently brushing aside his drenched pink hair. Techno can barely feel anything but a dull ache in his lower back. The mark on his chest is warm, not overwhelmingly so, but still very warm, and he can feel the power being transferred to his body, closing wounds and wearing off the worst of the pain.

At some point, in the transition from punishment to reward, they had gotten in the bed, and the comfortable mattress is a relief against his abused back. He cannot as much as whimper when Dream finally gets out of him, but he does sigh sweetly when the blonde cleans him with a piece of fabric, starting with his tear and drool stained face. His lord could be very kind. Caring. Techno can let go and feel safe, for his dear god is watching over him.

He is so drunk in his bliss he barely registers whatever mumbled mess leaves his lips, but he still hears the pleased chuckle Dream gives him as the blonde moves them to a more comfortable position. Techno hides his face under the blonde’s chin, listening to his heartbeat—how he has a heartbeat is a mystery to be discovered at a later date.

Techno falls asleep quickly, the last thing he hears being Dream’s soothing voice.

“Don’t leave you? If anything, you’re the one who should be leaving me, my little blessing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the lovely person who left a comment and asked me not to accept it: Thank you so very much! I'm really happy that you picked on the subtle nudge that there is more to this, and I really like how you describe it as "much longer and colorful". Please take care and thanks again! <3


End file.
